Double Date
by Busman's Holiday
Summary: Three Parter Stendan future fic, set three years on. Brendan and Ste live happily in Dublin, running and bar and restaurant. When they visit a hotel for an anniversary dirty weekend they bump into a familiar couple and things get awkward...
1. Chapter 1

**Double Date**

"Last order! Let's get it done and then we can get off home!" Ste shouted through the fog of cooking smells and steam to his small team of cooks, glancing at the clock. The small hand edged closer to three and he knew, with a bounce in his soles, in a few hours he'd be lolled on crisp white sheets of a hotel bed, mouth agape and ankle somewhere up by his head.

He had his focus centred on the spooning of a buerre blanc sauce and neglected to hear the kitchen door swing open with a squeak and a thud.

"Concentrating," he said when the shadow over his work was all too familiar. "What do you want?"

"Pour it all over," Brendan said, "I like it all over."

Ste tutted. "This is for you?"

Brendan dodged the saucepan hanging by his head. He swerved closer to Ste, hands behind his back and inspecting. He knew the penalty if he dared touch anything in Ste's kitchen. The whole joint, even Brendan's own adjoined bar included, was after all called _Steven's_. "Who else orders a steak with extra blood?"

"I would have spat on it if I'd known," Ste said and then rested his pan down, grinned at Brendan and reached up for a quick kiss. "The boys still with ya?"

"Yeah. You gonna come out and say hi?"

Ste pressed his palm to his warm forehead after calling for service. "I'll be out in five, go eat your lunch, will ya? Me blood sweat and tears went into it!"

Brendan clicked his fingers at one of the new work experience kids. "Minny, Jimmy, Thingy – whatever your name is - make Steven something good and bring it out for us, yeah?"

Mickey – his actual name - took at an uneasy look at Ste (he hadn't been introduced to the big, bad, moustachioed boss of the adjoining bar since being recruited) and when Ste nodded kindly, heading to the doorway to unbutton his uniform, Mickey got on with the thankless task.

Just like his dad, Declan had mouth stuffed to the teeth with a burger – meat free unlike his father's preference – when Ste approached the table, and it looked as if he might cough it over the table when he tried calling out in greeting. Paddy looked up from his scientific extraction of mushrooms from his bowl of pasta and smiled.

Ste wrangled his leg over the timber bench beside Brendan. They were terrible seats for the back, but they looked good; Ste never had any problems eating in his own restaurant, he felt at home and although he prided himself on the quality of the food, it never felt stuffy and the place was always buzzing. _Steven's Bar_ was the same at night; cocktail booths and a neon glow, the place was regularly rammed. It even satisfied Brendan that those who flocked to the guest DJ nights were above the age of intolerable students and would fork out for the steeply priced drinks.

There had barely been a month since opening that they hadn't both made a profit. And the thriving nature of _Steven's_ meant taking time off wasn't much of a problem, the staff were grounded and loyal and on the most part, female. It wasn't a trust thing, it was all taken in good humour, but there was a strict, unwritten 'no twinks' rule on the barmen. Ste made it clear that with Brendan hovering, even though he didn't manage the restaurant – Ste did -, there was no chance of any waiters cracking onto him. Brendan still attempted to veto on looks alone.

"Pad, you should have asked for no mushrooms. If I'd known it was your order I would've left them out!" Ste said. Even though he'd known Declan the longest and thought of more of a friend than anything else, Padraic was a sparky eleven year old, full of cheek. And despite it paining him to think it, he looked at Paddy and saw Brendan in his eyes, before the horror came and poured darkness into him.

Brendan ruffled Pad's hair, like fathers do when they forget their little ones are wanting to keep their cool, and turned his head to Ste. He smiled at him like he'd been waiting hours to do it.

"What'd you get up to today then?" Ste asked feeling his stomach sound the alarm of his hunger. He hoped Mickey had picked something more substantial than a salad from the menu.

"This and that," Declan answered. He was stooped low and shovelling in his food, mirroring his dad. He was almost as tall as him now, turning eighteen next year and if Brendan had his way, staying out of any trouble. "Went to the cinema, saw that new Spiderman one."

"Oh yeah? Any good?" Ste said, a fond glance to Brendan, knowing he'd been itching to see it. Since the events of the past being laid to rest, the ongoing exorcism of Seamus out of his life and head, Brendan's affection for superheroes had been creeping back into his life. Ste had noticed it in the presents Brendan bought for Lucas, on the frequent weekend visits when they'd fly back to England to see him and Leah. "Men in tights," he'd teased, until Brendan pinned him with an intense stare and realised it was not something to mock.

"I'm not really into them movies, me," Ste said, pinching a vine tomato from Brendan's plate that he obviously wasn't touching.

Paddy shrugged, "Me either." Brendan had learned earlier that he wasn't all that bothered about the cinema, he just liked the sweets and being allowed into an older certificate film because the ushers were too intimidated by his dad.

"I'm into all the action, gangster ones," Ste said, face lighting up when Mickey rushed out with a chicken club sandwich for him.

Declan scoffed a little. "It figures," he said signalling to Brendan.

"Quit the yapping and finish up your bean crap, boy,"

Brendan grinned toothily, knowing full well what Ste's next response would be.

"Oi, that _bean crap_ is my recipe, ya git!"

"Ladies, ladies," Declan said. "Best bean burger in Dublin anyway, da." Ste took that as a victory.

X

Ste rolled out his body in a stretch and yawned.

Brendan released the handbrake of the car. "Tired already, Steven? That doesn't bode well,"

Ste's smile distorted his yawn and he tapped his hand on Brendan's chest in a half-slap. "Some of us have been working all day,"

"Yeah and I've been entertaining a stroppy teenager and a child all day. What's ya point?" Brendan dropped the boys off to Eileen's mother after their lunch together. More accurately he'd dropped them a few streets away. Despite being his ex-mother in law, all Eileen's fire came from her and she hadn't quite grasped the Catholic concept of forgiveness. He didn't expect a warm invitation and Eileen told him over the phone that her mother didn't approve of Brendan's reintroduction into the boys' lives. She claimed to have told Eileen that she could smell there was something queer about him, long before anyone else had figured it out. Declan had told him on the journey there, in no uncertain terms, that their granny was losing it and hadn't bothered with her anti-Brendan preaching since Declan had given her "lip" (in her words). When Paddy piped up too that he liked Ste, their granny had had little choice but to back down and keep her thoughts to herself.

Brendan was taken by Ste's naughty smile that had struck him as he spoke. "You've taken me to an 'otel, a whole building of beds. Nothing wrong with a little nap, is there?"

"Didn't bring you here to sleep,"

"Oh yeah?" Ste said. He had this way about him when he was horny. His eyes seemed darker and his tongue peeked out through his teeth. "What you gonna do with me, then?"

Brendan hooked two fingers into Ste's collar and drew him forward, sucking his top lip into his mouth, then parted away, nudging his head to the right and opening his mouth against Ste's, letting his tongue edge in, sliding hotly against his. Ste pulled at Brendan's shirt, fingers clawing into the cotton and dragged his hand up his body until his fingers pulled his hair between his palm. He opened deeper into Brendan's kiss and then breathless, moved away teasingly.

"You wanna take this out of the car park?"

The hotel was out of the city, walled by a forest. It was, how Ste would describe it, "dead fancy". Once it had been a manor estate, bought buy a man with too much to spend and a lady to impress, but now stretched to a few hundred rooms, a golf course and a spa. To visit for a dirty weekend had begun as an offhand comment, a date in December called into question, one which was always remembered and an unspoken commitment to their history, one that was usually celebrated in a clash of bodies, a hot mess in a bed away from home.

The lobby was sprinkled with Christmas. The air clung heavy with artificial pine and cinnamon, ivy and lights looped over fixtures and fittings. It was the week before and the rooms were uncomfortably warm, preparing for the artic conditions which hadn't quite arrived.

Ste bounded into their room first, taking a good nose around, leaving Brendan to close the door behind them. He walked into the room, swinging his hands together impatiently as Ste buzzed around.

"The room's mint," Ste said, rushing to check out the bathroom. Brendan sighed, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves. It was a suite, he'd seen the photos online, he'd no interest in the colour of the tiles or the size of the pillows. He threw their holdall onto a chair and unzipped.

When Ste showed his face again, beaming, Brendan stood, lube already in hand.

"Are we going to have to go through this charade every year? Just take off your clothes."

It was all part of the game and they both knew it. And then came the time where Ste would let Brendan undress him, taking as little time and humanly possible, all the while feasting his hands on every inch of exposed skin. Then it was nails and mouth and tongue on him.

Tonight Ste had other ideas and he reached up, folded his grip around the open neck of Brendan's shirt, the warm pulse of his heart and the thick swell of muscle and hair at his fingertips, and pulled, ripping the material open and not caring about buttons or cost. He unlaced Brendan's belt fast, his speed and ferocity silencing Brendan's obvious complaints about his shirt.

Ste pushed Brendan's shirt off his shoulders, taking stock of the feel of his arms under his slight hands. He looked up at him through his dark lashes and gave him a look which made Brendan's lower lip droop through his increasing panting. Ste sunk to his knees.

Brendan groaned, the satisfaction of foresight. His knuckles were white as he gripped Ste's hair. It gave him immeasurable pleasure to see Ste so submissive. The memories it evoked overwhelmed him; their affair in its infancy, with Steven inexperienced and learning, but excruciatingly curious and receptive to the extent that his discovery was additive to be involved with. He was a master of control and expertise now, he knew the buttons to press and tease and Brendan was just as smitten as the day when Ste had first swallowed a mouthful of cum.

There were no lessons or instructions to be taught any longer. Ste read Brendan's body like it was his own. He knew how to start and to end, the pressure and the technique and speed. He knew when to open his eyes and when Brendan liked to watch him get lost in the moment with his eyes closed.

He rested his hands on Brendan's hips and began; a light stroke of his balls and down his shaft. He ran his lips of the head of Brendan's cock, pressing them against its swollen heat. He nuzzled, lips and tongue. When at last he took Brendan into his mouth, he built a steady pace, a tight seal around his dick, sliding him in and out and grazing his tongue under the head.

Brendan's hand pressed between Ste's forehead and then at the back, easing the push and pull. He grunted and jerked, body creasing and stiffening as though stuck with fever. He pulled at Ste's hair and then stilled, feeling Ste shift and taken Brendan right to the back of his throat. Ste opened his eyes and dazed, Brendan fought his reflex to close his and came. His hips shuddered into spasm, and he released his grip on Ste's head, stroking his cheek blindly. Ste's lips glistened and he wiped them with the back of his hand, going then to finish licking Brendan clean.

Ste rested back on his calves and palms.

"Now what?" He grinned.

He was fucked, long and hard into the early hours. Positions and sweat and semen and volume of cries that were made for anonymous hotel room stays. When sleep came it was soundless and sprawled.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so I said two parts. It'll be three now! Let me know if you guessed the mystery of the double daters correctly! **

* * *

"Love's a funny old thing, ain't it?" said the beauty therapist with a sigh.

Eileen listened with a fraction of patience she wasn't aware she possessed. The girl paused and all that Eileen could hear was the tacky smacking of chewing gum and the weight of her fingertips at her temples. "I mean, just earlier I saw this couple in the lobby. Two men. You know," she whispered, "Gay. And I thought, you still don't really see it all that much, do you really?"

Eileen exhaled sharply through her nose, a half-scoff.

"You're a bit tense, just relax," the beautician said, breaking into her soft 'therapy' voice.

"Some of us do," Eileen said, picking up from the therapist's wittering as she smoothed cream into her forehead, "When your husband leaves you for a fella,"

That'll shut her up, Eileen thought to herself. And after a little nervous laughter, it did.

X

Ste got bored in the sauna quickly. There was little fun to be had sitting alone in a room designed to make you uncomfortably hot. He thought about wandering to the spa to see if Brendan was almost finished, but he knew that they wouldn't let him meander in and out of the quiet treatment rooms, and checking the time, Ste realised that Brendan would still be another half hour. He could think of plenty of ways to while away the morning, without having a load of gunk on his face and he reckoned, if Brendan had only asked, Ste could have given the massaging a pretty good go.

They'd had a late, lazy morning of it. Breakfast in bed – the room service kind, like every other year before it, besides the first – trays of the stuff spread over the bed. It was midday by the time they'd stopped having sex. Ste was tender and then hypocritically sulking when he learned Brendan had booked himself in for some spa sessions, alone.

Ste headed to the pool to cool off. After considering the use of the Jacuzzi, he decided that it was another activity he didn't fancy doing alone, particularly after some very vivid memories of a night time dip in a Jacuzzi in Portugal. It wouldn't live up to that experience. Ste settled on swimming a few lengths, with his eye firmly on the clock.

A little while later, when the lifeguard had disappeared out of sight, Ste took the opportunity to break one of the heavily-signposted rules on the wall. With a cheeky yelp of excitement, Ste tucked his legs up and from the top of the diving board, bombed into the deep end.

It was only when his head dipped above the water that he heard a woman's shriek. From the back of her, he saw that he'd absolutely drenched her and the magazines bundled under her arm, as she'd clearly walked past the pool at the wrong moment.

And when she turned around, fury hard in her expression, Ste's face fell.

Eileen Brady.

X

Brendan's face was tingling. It smelt of lemon and tea and he wondered, if he had a tongue long enough to lick his cheek, whether he tasted like a bottle of Lipton. He'd ask Steven to try it out, even though the closest Steven had probably got to iced lemon tea was a bottle of flat Fanta. He stood at the desk at the front of the spa, drumming his fingers impatiently, waiting to clear his bill and buy a couple of products to sneak back to the hotel room without Steven mocking him for it. The woman behind the desk was on the phone and talked the speed of a snail, prompting Brendan to glare at her, between picking up various pots and tubs of moisturiser displayed on the counter.

He barely blinked at the extortionate price she asked for.

"D'you want it put on your room, sir?" she asked, a sighing-would-rather-be-anywhere-else tone.

He flashed his credit card at her. "Put it in one of those plain bags, will ya? Can't have the old ball and chain finding out the price tag on all this."

She gave a cold smile and once the transaction all went through, handed him the stocked bag and disappeared to avoid having to converse any longer.

It was only when Brendan went careering round that he was almost knocked over by miraculously avoiding the path of the man behind him. And when they avoided clashing the man smiled.

"Well if it isn't Brendan Brady!"

Michael Donovan.

X

He'd fetched her a towel and was now standing, arms tucked tight around him, dripping dangerously close to her bag, as she sat on the edge of one of the poolside loungers.

"Look, I'm really sorry," he said for the fifth time. Eileen made him feel like a kid at school.

Her jaw clicked to the side. "Can you not read?" she said, her head nodding towards the pool signs Ste had ignored.

"Of course I can read, I just didn't think," Ste said.

"No, of course you didn't," Eileen said, placing down the towel and attempting to salvage her magazines.

"I can go get a hairdryer or something, you know, dry the pages."

Eileen looked at him like he was speaking jibberish. "Save yourself the bother," she said. She spent a few moments patting her hair dry with the towel. "So I take it you're not here alone?"

Ste was struck now with a sudden onset of smugness. He was of course on an incredibly dirty weekend with her ex-husband. Not like he liked to gloat, but she was pulling her usual routine of looking down on him and she deserved a little payback for being such a mardy cow.

"Brendan's here too. Obviously," he added, bordering on the rubbing-it-in stage, "We're just having a weekend together, getting away from the business. Celebrating. Three years since I came over here to surprise 'im."

Eileen couldn't resist. "Three years since you left husband number one, has it really been that long?"

Ste couldn't supress the eye roll that had been building from the moment she'd spoken. His lips tightened in anger and he grimaced. "You not managed to trap Michael into it yet?" he welcomed the glare that came next. "Thought not. Well 'ave a nice stay, Eileen. See'ya round." And with that, he turned and left, leaving her to her soggy magazines and headed for the changing rooms.

X

"I didn't have you down as the moisturising type Brendan," Michael said, a warm laugh in his throat. A throat Brendan wished he'd had his hands round. "Well, on second thoughts, maybe I did. _If you know what I mean_," he added in sotto.

Brendan's expression didn't mirror the humoured glow on Michael's face, he stood, hands in pockets and on a mission to stare down.

"So you here alone?" Michael continued, not sensing he should quit whilst he was ahead. "Or is your er…your _life_-_partner_ – is that what you're supposed to say?"

"Well he's not my wife," Brendan said.

Michael pointed at him like he'd made the world's funniest quip. "Is he here?"

"Yes, he's here. He fidgets too much for a facial." Brendan said and then stiffening a little when he realised he'd given away a little too much detail to someone who was practically a stranger.

Not seeming to notice, Michael babbled on. "Eileen's here. Having some 'me time'. Women, you know!" he laughed again, and this time Brendan realised, he was nervous. That's what all the jittery chat was about. "Well, of course you know. You married her."

"Hmm." Brendan gave a glance to his wrist, not that he was wearing a watch, but he hoped Michael would pick up on the subtleties. "As lovely as this catch up is, and it _is_. I've gotta be heading back. Stash these away."

"Say Brendan, what are your dinner plans? Seeing as we're all friends, why don't we make tonight's dinner a foursome! It'd be great to have a proper catch up! What d'you say?" Michael had barely breathed before nudging Brendan and continuing, "And I'll keep your little secret about all that face muck! Eh? What do you say?"

X

Ste awoke softly to find his t-shirt pushed up, Brendan's hand flat and smoothing against his soft belly hair. In his post-Eileen altercation, boredom had struck him and he found himself wandering back to the hotel room and napping, realising how little sleep he'd had in the night. Ste opened an eye to find Brendan was laid beside him, lips and moustache nuzzling under his earlobe. Ste gave a sleepy mumble and rolled over onto his back, looking up at Brendan who was stretched out and leaning on his elbow. He smelt clean and citrusy.

"It's worked wonders," he murmured, stroking his knuckles against Brendan's cheek. "Ten years younger." A giggle rumbled in his throat.

"An afternoon nap, who's the old man?" Brendan replied, reaching to thread his fingers through Ste's chlorine fluffed hair.

"You wore me out," Ste said, limbs curling in a yawn. "Did ya have a nice time?"

Brendan flattened out on his back, with Ste soon joining him to cuddle up to his chest. "Yeah," Brendan said, wondering when was the right moment to break the news. "Did you check out the pool?"

"Yeah," Ste replied, "Bit boring really." He copied Brendan's earlier move and snuck his hand up and under Brendan's t-shirt. He was warm and hairy; it was a comfort. "But I bumped into someone…"

"Oh Jesus…" Brendan said, fingers pressed hard over his eye and rubbing down his face.

"How did you-?"

"I bumped into Michael, you know, that idiot she's with."

"What are the chances, eh?" Ste said. He gave a shrug. "Oh well, don't matter, does it?"

Ste had switched positions so his head rested on the pillow next to Brendan. He missed Brendan's brief moment of shiftiness. It still struck him as a luxury to be able to lie next to each other and talk like any other normal couple, even if they had been at it now for a number of years.

"Did you speak to her?"

Ste pulled a face. "I splashed her."

Brendan sat up sharply. "You what?"

"She were walking by and I like bombed into the pool and…well she got a soaking, but the way I look at it, it was her fault right…"

Ste jabbered on under Brendan's fixed stare until he burst into a roar of laughter, Ste's expression jumping in surprise. He took Ste's face in both his hands and kissed him on the mouth.

"You shun't kiss me for that," Ste teased. He creased up his nose.

"Just did."

Brendan looked down on Ste with a smile that made his eyes light up. "Okay," Ste conceded and tilted his chin so their lips met again.

Brendan took up position between Ste's lethargically splayed legs and was making headway into scooping his t-shirt between his palms, pushing it up under his arms and trailing mouth and nose up the centre of his body. He rolled the tip of his nose over Ste's right nipple, swapping it for his lips as Ste's fingers traced lightly over the transparent hairs on the back of his neck.

"There is one other thing," Brendan said, propped up on one arm as the other worked at unlacing Ste's tracksuit bottoms. He took a quick glance at Ste's already blushed lips and weighed up the pros and cons about the news he was about to deliver. "We're having dinner with them tonight."

Row. Make up sex.

Delivering the bad news was just like ripping off a plaster.

X

Michael didn't dare tell Eileen that they were having dinner with Brendan and Ste. He feared her reaction, he could envision objects flying in his direction, but thrown into the situation without a way out, she'd cope. She'd barely spent more than five minutes in Ste's company and considering he was a permanent part of Brendan's life and therefore their children's, it was about time they were adults about it. The fact that even the boys had commented on Ste's positive impact on Brendan's life, should have indicated to her that it was time to move past her bitterness and accept the situation, as strange as it still felt to her.

To his dismay when he met up with her later on, she was already frosty and it didn't indicate that she might come round to his way of thinking as easy as he'd hoped. She snapped at him for the teeth indentations around the skin of his fingernails (_"You just can't leave things alone, can you, Michael?! It's pick pick pick.")_ so the rest of the afternoon was spent passively following her word.

X

Their left hands were outstretched and placed atop of each other on the edge of the bath tub. The bath might have been the size of a small room itself, like a steamed pool, rather than something you'd actually wash in. They were palm-to-back-of-hand not palm to palm, and Ste's fingers nested comfortably between the spaces of Brendan's, apart from their matching bands of metal on the third finger which made that positioning a little more awkward.

Ste lifted his leg out of the water, leaving a clear parting in the thick foamed bubbles. The hairs from his knee to his feet glistened as he wriggled his toes before dunking his leg back in the water.

"Cramp," he explained before scooting down in the tub a little and resting his head back on Brendan's shoulder. Brendan's arm in the water slid around Ste's waist to hold him there.

"What made you marry her?" Ste asked.

"You going to ask that now?" Brendan said. He sighed. It wasn't as if Ste hadn't had questions for him before, usually ones loaded with insecurity. Ones that asked him about the men before him and the feelings he'd had and the two names he knew and probably bothered him the most. And most of the time Brendan would be looking into his eyes, seconds after a climax and wonder – how could he even begin to ask or doubt? There was never anyone else. No one that mattered. And even one or two that he had wondered at the time, if they could matter, paled into nothing with Steven in his life.

And yet still, he never asked about Doug, about Noah, about any names he didn't know in between. Behind the mocking and the ridiculing jokes, he had questions too, ones of doubt and paranoia. Not for the future, but for the mistakes of the past and unearthing the regret which threatened to consume him.

"Not the reasons I wanted to marry for," Brendan said in response to Ste's reluctant shrug. "Guilt, fear, thinking it was the right thing to do. She was pregnant, she'd just lost a baby. I liked her, I felt sorry for her, I loved her like…I don't know, like a friend. If I could force that ring on my finger and just hope that it might have made me faithful, made me…" His tongue clicked in his mouth. He rested his chin against Ste's forehead so his words reverberated right through. "Truth was, I didn't even make it a week before….relapsing." He moved his head away then, rolling it the side, shame forcing distance between them. "All I could think of was that God was going to punish me for it, like with Niamh. But thankfully…Deccy was okay."

"It wasn't you," Ste said softly. He looked up at Brendan through the steam hazed space. "It wasn't your fault. Look at me,"

Brendan looked, fished his hand from the water and tracked a thumb down Ste's dewy cheek.

"Look, I'm sorry for bringing it all up again. She puts me on edge. Like she thinks she knows you better and I'm just some kid whose known you for five minutes." Ste said, the lines on his forehead making a frown. Brendan had told him to stop that on several occasions, that the lines would start sticking.

Brendan laughed a little. "You're worried _Eileen_ knows me better than you?"

"Well you know…now that I've said it out loud I feel stupid, don't I?"

Brendan kissed the top of his head. "Never stupid, Steven."

"She was a big part of your past an'…" Ste stopped and looked up at Brendan's expression.

"You married me. Yeah okay, geddit now. Shutting up,"

"Tell me Steven, was this all some big rouse for a bit of one-on-one attention?" Brendan teased, placing both hands under the water. He brought them up and under Ste's thighs, drawing up his knees. His fingers trailed from the crook under his knees, down to where the curve of his backside met the bath base. Ste's arms spanned eagle-like and scooted down into the water so the foam lapped against his chin.

"This bath is pretty roomy." Ste's grin shot cheekily up at Brendan, whose fingers moulded around Ste's balls and toyed with them, playing a lazy rhythm on the base of his cock too.

"So when you said, let's have a bath. You meant…" he said, his voice a low rumble in Ste's ear. Ste shifted in position, sliding away from Brendan. He knelt up in the water, facing him, his cock already erect and peeking through the bubbles.

"Let's have a _bath._"

Brendan's gaze slicked with lust, eyes tracing every droplet of water that made silvery tracks down his bronzed skin. It had been months since they were sharing open mouth kisses in an open-top car in Monaco, but the tan still clung to Ste's body like it was made for him. And entwined, on those pristine holiday-white bed sheets in the heat, his tan against the pale and dark hair, was a heavenly sight when Brendan's eye caught the bedside mirror.

"You wanna get yourself back over, here where you belong?" Brendan said. "I ain't finished with ya,"

Ste sidled up to him, perching himself so they were groin to groin, and laid restless kisses over Brendan's wet chest hair when he reclined back. He wormed his hand between them, revelling in the way Brendan's head fell back in satisfaction when Ste took a firm grip around his cock, the water making light work of it.

"Can't suck you off in the bath," Ste said, as though he needed justification. He writhed his hips, riding his cock over the length of Brendan's, moving his hand along with the motion.

Brendan groaned, his throat spasming. "Do that again." When Brendan was asking for something, all dark and velvet vowels, Ste would never refuse him. He let out a mischievous snigger, knees squeezing around Brendan's body and gave a jagged swerve of his hips over and over. He wriggled, elbows coming to rest on Brendan's shoulders for leverage, and pressed their laps together, making waves around them.

Brendan's hands skimmed the length of Ste's body and dug his fingers into his pert arse, getting a handle on his hips to slam their groins together. Ste leaned into Brendan's mouth on his neck, tonguing wetter the dampness of the bath water on his skin and Ste pressed himself into the thick masculine comfort of his body hair. Brendan thrust a finger inside him, catching Ste with gasped surprise and an eruption of breathy laughter until he was stopped dead and thrummed by two fingers growing impatient.

Ste swam away from him then, pushing himself to the opposite end of the bath. He shot Brendan a look over his shoulder and grinned, flirty eyelashes and tongue between teeth. He was on all fours, chin rested and arms crossed over the edge of the bath. He was an invitation.

There was shift in the water, a silence and a drift of the residue bubbles as Brendan emerged like Triton, streams of water cascading from chest downwards through masses of black hair, his muscles clenching and expanding as he approached Ste.

"Hello," he murmured, kneeling up against Ste. Brendan smoothed a slippery hand up Ste's spine, moulding to its arching. His cock ached in his hand and it took all the patience he owned not to bury himself inside Ste immediately. Instead he rubbed his palm roughly over Ste's balls, watching with burnt black irises as Ste writhed against his touch.

His fingers travelled back to the crease of his arse, scoring the surface and pausing to rub, tantalising the ridge of his hole. Brendan pressed the weight of his muscled arm, one that Ste revelled in having wrapped around him, up the length of his back and hooked his hand, knuckles resting gently, on the skin where Ste's neck and shoulder met. With his free arm, Brendan reached out and squirted bath lotion from a bottle-pump onto his fingers and plunged them, without pause, inside Ste. His whole body stiffened in surprise and then relaxed. He mumbled encouraging noises into his arm, feeling Brendan ease into him.

Brendan grunted. He was struck with exhibition, curling his grip onto Ste's shoulder, saying _fuck fuck fuck_ over and over with every pound into Ste. Possessively, he grabbed Ste's hips with both hands, drawing him against him and punctuated every thrust with an animalistic groan, water frothing between them.

"You drive me fucking crazy," Brendan cried, watching Ste's spine arch beautifully underneath him. Ste's half-scream stuck in his throat, cracking into silence. He felt his body grow slack, letting Brendan control every thud and he took his dick into his hand and jerking it furiously, wrist knocking repeatedly against the bath.

Brendan came soon after, Ste's clenching muscles pulling him in. He watched Ste's cum swirl in the bathwater around them and when he was sated, dunked his head into the water, and spat a mouthful of it over Ste, so his arse glistened wet. He gave it a teasing slap for good measure. Ste ended his bath by stretching out flat and floating on his back in the water.

"We got time for another?" he asked playfully.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Third and final chapter. Thank you to anyone who has read and left a review, I really appreciate it!**

* * *

Eileen had tutted about the size of their allotted table on arrival, but Michael kept her docile with a bottle of her favourite white on the table waiting, he'd even called down especially to do so. He was thankful that Brendan and Ste were late, that way he hoped it might make it look as if it were Brendan's idea all along.

A waiter came along promptly, asking if they wanted any water for the table – or any other drinks – and then corrected himself, asking if they wanted to wait for the rest of their party.

"It's just the two of us, goodness knows you wouldn't think that judging by where we've been shoved-" Eileen began.

Michael's face creased and he turned to Eileen. "Actually…"

But he was interrupted immediately by Eileen herself, who was quick to reach for her glass and mutter: "Jesus and Mary," into it, knocking back a swig.

The waiter hung, antsy, to the side as Brendan and Ste approached and stood at the table. Ste was a pace behind and his expression was a mingle of sheepish tension and elation at the horror on Eileen's.

"Brendan," she said, mouth tight.

He acknowledged Michael with a nod. "Eileen."

"I'll come back when you're all settled," said the waiter, fleeing off quicker than he could have been shoved away by Brendan.

As Brendan went to touch the chair to sit in, Eileen pre-empted the scheme and glared at Michael, steely eyed. He knew she was too proud to blow up at him in public, but he could feel the rage like a sweltering vapour around her.

Ste and Michael shook hands, saying little to Eileen. Opening up the menu, Brendan cleared his throat and flicked his eyes up at Eileen.

"Dried off then, I see," Brendan said, gesturing with his hands.

Eileen shot Ste daggers. He fidgeted opposite Michael, picking up the array of cutlery. He'd wanted to compliment the hotel's restaurant but it didn't feel the right time.

"Well I'm glad it was so amusing to you,"

Brendan's nostrils flared a little, keeping his laughter supressed at the image.

Michael was behind. "What's this?"

"Oh we bumped into each other earlier, din't we Eileen? I was messing and she got a bit soaked," Ste said. He didn't mind Michael so much, he seemed more amiable than Brendan had made him out to be. Ste wondered if Brendan was still a bit protective over the men that moved onto his territory, even if it was his ex-wife, Michael was still playing step-dad to his kids a lot of the time. They both knew how hard it was to be the part-time dad, to see someone else playing your role.

Brendan still had these ticks in these mind, these scars about real men and masculinity and fatherhood. It made him guarded and uptight around men like Michael who could play husband and father like a natural. Whereas he could spend a day doing the same, and at times it was as though the outside world still saw him as play-acting, that it wasn't in his blood to be at ease. They could see it; the whole world saw a fraud. Some days they'd motivate him to try harder at acting "normal" and others, he'd retreat into himself. It wasn't a battle with a victory, it raged on.

Michael was filled in on the sketchy details, despite Eileen's half of the conversation keeping clipped and cold and the waiter came to take their orders, skipping over the specials in lightning speed because any fool could have felt the unbearable tension. There was a moment where Brendan and Ste shared a fluttering, quiet chatter when Michael was ordering, they were all smiles and flirtation in a private joke. It prompted Eileen to reach for the wine. She looked over her glass at Ste, still scrutinising him like she had all their other meetings: why him? What made him the chosen one? She'd learned over the years that there had been many others who'd come and gone – literally – and the thought made her twist with shame at her own naivety, but here he was, the one that changed everything. Some boy ten years his junior, some slight thing, a teenage dad with a bad attitude and simple mind. And yet by some short miracle had got a man as thuggish and closed off as Brendan to come good, be honest. Christ, she thought, he got Brendan to say the g-word and leap as far as marriage. Not what God deemed as marriage, of course, but she had to pick her battles.

When the waiter disappeared, and half a bottle down, she got braver.

"So I was surprised you brought Ste here, Brendan. Considering,"

He cocked his head to the side. "Considering?"

"The millennium…? We came here on our first wedding anniversary," Eileen said, keeping check on Ste as she spoke. She neglected to mention, of course, that Brendan drank himself stupid that night and she went to bed early and cried. By the time she woke up he was back in the room showered and sober, she had make-up smudged down her face and they had compulsory sex, saying very little to each other.

Ste's eyes dropped and then he turned to Brendan, like the rest of the table, looking for his explanation.

"No? No," he said, frowning. He laughed nervously.

"It's changed names, mind, it's more up market than we came," she said, taking another sip.

"I don't remember," Brendan said.

"Clearly,"

Brendan paused, but before he had the chance to apologise for encroaching on her nostalgia, Ste spoke instead.

"So what brought you back 'ere then? The memories?" Ste asked, that attitude flaring in his tone.

"We won a trip away," she said. There was an embarrassment in the speed in which she said it.

Michael placed his hand on her arm tentatively, still uncertain if she'd snap. "If only we could afford to escape to a place like this when we fancied getting away!" It wasn't a dig, Eileen was perfectly capable of defending herself, it was honest.

The main courses arrived, moments after the drinks, and topics rooted into safer ground. Eileen kept check on her snipes, banking them for another time, another conversation. There were friends she went to, people who had met the infamous ex-husband and people who had only known of the elusive Brendan through well told stories of adulteries and his misdemeanours, friends who would appreciate her commentary on the situation. Increasingly, however, she tried to build an identity away from 'the woman whose husband fled to England to marry a man' even if that wasn't the exact way she'd told the story.

Their wedding itself, she hadn't attended, but she'd heard plenty about from the boys and had snuck through Declan's Facebook photos when he'd left his laptop unlocked. She guessed from the photos, that Brendan hadn't had much to do with the organisation of it. The levels of tackiness screamed her ex-sister in law and Ste. She wasn't throwing any stones, considering her dress was thigh high and sculpted around her baby bump, but at least she had the excuse of it being the late nineties.

One thing hadn't changed, Brendan's guest list was minimal at best. From the photos she could see very few sitting on his side and he'd rebuffed the idea of a best man. The boys looking handsome in their suits; Cheryl - eight-months gone at the time and nearly exploding out of her sweet-wrapper inspired outfit - and Nate by her side keeping a watch on her fizz intake; a woman who Declan had gone gooey-eyed over (although how Brendan had befriended an ex-glamour model was beyond her) and her young son; and a dark haired man who she recognised to be Pete from their childhood, a man she could have sworn was Brendan's sworn enemy at one time.

By the looks of it, Ste didn't fare much better on the popularity stakes, but her mind was on other things when she scrolled through the rest of the photos. When she stopped picking them apart, stopped looking for things to criticise, signs that it was doomed, she realised that her biggest oversight was not looking at her ex-husband at all. She glanced, of course, she thought he looked like he'd not slept and that the fear was making his eyes whiter, that he might bolt or punch the registrar. But then she _really_ looked. There was a spark to his eyes she hadn't seen before, a youth and a coyness she had never expected he'd possessed. It was as though he looked lighter somehow.

She didn't linger on them long. There was a discomfort to seeing your ex marry again and she'd like to declare she was modern enough to say it made no difference that he was marrying a man, but it did make her feel unusual.

"How's your steak?" Ste asked Brendan, demolishing the pastry of what was essentially a pie with a fancy name.

Brendan chewed, rocking his head to the side. "Bloody,"

Ste laughed, a repeated snort through his nose. "Not as good as mine,"

"Little beats perfection, Steven."

"How _is_ business, lads?" Michael asked, almost too cheerily, given the situation.

Brendan raised an eyebrow at 'lads'.

Ste was the only one who seemed willing to ignore the tension and chat away. Eileen noticed how he was full of Northern colloquialisms, and although she had occasion to twist her ear to keep up with him, his enthusiasm bounced across the table and despite herself she could see why her boys were so fond.

As Ste gabbled about menus and cliental, Brendan's gaze opened towards Eileen.

"The boys have fun today?" she asked. Her eyes drifted mournfully over the salad she wished she hadn't ordered.

Brendan shrugged. "I think so. We just went to the pictures and had lunch at the restaurant." Brendan was briefly distracted by the raucous laughter of Ste beside him. He and Michael were forging a friendship much to the tight jawed chagrin of their other halves. "It's been so great seeing them and making it up to them, you know?"

"Well they are _your_ children," Eileen said.

He bit back the sharp tongued comments and grimaced. "I've tried Eileen. The old me, it's gone. It's gone. They mean everything to me. You know that,"

She conceded, shifting her shoulders.

"I wanna have them over for Christmas," he said. There was an uneasy shift in the temperature of the table as Ste and Michael's chat dried up.

"Brendan," Eileen said, her appal barely above the volume of the restaurant. "You can't be serious." His shock request made her flippant, she was rejecting it before even considering it.

"I know it's short notice," Brendan said, "The kids are coming over," he gestured to Ste. "I want my boys there too. A family Christmas,"

She scoffed. It was petty to be hurt of his love for someone else's children, she knew it, but after years of distance from his own, it was a bitter truth to swallow.

"And what about my family Christmas, Bren?" she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms, "We go to my ma's every year, you know that. You wait until days before – what are they to you, Brendan, an afterthought?"

Brendan's knuckles were white. He stood up from the table. "Don't."

"I can't just forget the way you treated us Brendan!"

Ste touched Brendan's arm to try and get him to sit, but he flinched him off.

"Well maybe you wanna try putting down the wine and giving it a try!" He lifted his jacket from the back of the chair and apologetically Ste stood too. Brendan looked at Michael. "I'm sorry for ruining your evening."

X

Ste walked apprehensively behind Brendan as he paced up to their room. He had braced himself for a silent interaction, knowing he was best left to lift the dark moods himself. They had been to therapy a few times, Ste more so than Brendan. He didn't want Brendan to deal with Seamus's shadow alone, or with God as his only comfort. Ste didn't understand God, or Brendan's faith, but he knew when Brendan turned to the Bible, he was shut out. Brendan hated the therapist, hated the victim status. All Ste wanted from her was to know if he could do anything.

"Ste, can I ask you something? Are you still coming to these sessions alone because you want to fix him?"

Ste had shaken his head. "He's not broken." He played with the fraying edges of the seat he sat in. "We're all a bit damaged, one way or another, right? Like, in different ways. And yeah, Brendan more than most." He paused. "I don't wanna fix him. I just want him to be happy. I want him to know that whatever has happened, he can still be happy. There's nothing in the Bible that says if bad things happen to ya, that you can't be happy, is there? I never went to R.E. lessons."

Brendan threw off his jacket when they entered the hotel room. He had his hands up to his face and Ste shut the door behind them. Ste was going to speak, he was going to suggest they could hold a second Christmas just for the Brady boys, they were too old for the Santa fest that he'd planned for his two, but Brendan had spun around and was staring at him.

He was hot mouthed and hands at his clothes, pushing Ste with force against the door. His hands bolted to Ste's jeans, pulling them roughly over his arse. Ste pushed him away.

"Brendan."

Brendan closed his eyes and laughed hollowly. "You're gonna shut me off now?"

"I don't want you fucking me thinking about how much you hate your ex-wife," Ste said. There was a humour in his tone and he could feel Brendan's anger subside a little. They pushed and pulled always, but the balance was there. Words never went unsaid, they hurt sometimes, but they could bring it back, because whatever it was, wasn't as strong as their love.

Ste pushed his finger into Brendan's chest. It was affectionate more than anything else. "And I don't want you using me as a way to make you forget about all that downstairs, alright? If you're gonna fuck me, then you're gonna fuck me because you want _me_."

"It'll be like fucking a therapist if you keep talking like that, Steven."

Ste pulled up his trousers and drew Brendan close with his hands on his face. "We'll sort something out with the boys."

Brendan murmured. "How can she not see? I'd do anything for the kids. Both our kids."

Ste knew why. He knew she was still hurting, still grieving the husband she lost to lies, still bitter from every time he'd failed her and the boys. And of course, Brendan would never tell her the whole truth about Seamus. As she knew it, Brendan served a suspended sentence for self defence against his monster of a father; a bully and an abuser. As for the rest, it was another secret distancing them.

When Brendan returned from the bathroom, he returned to find Ste shirtless on the bed, his face shiny and a bottle of his favourite whiskey in his hand.

"Brought it from home," Ste said with a grin.

"What have you got on your face?" Brendan asked, wiping his cheek and sniffing. "Did you use my moisturiser?!"

Ste rolled his eyes. "Well you bought enough for a dry old elephant,"

"What sorta way is that to talk about your husband?" He had Ste pinned now, with various body parts. The whiskey rolled off to one side of the bed.

"'Fort you didn't like me calling you that. You said it makes us sound proper gay," Ste said, wriggling free, "Like Elton John."

Brendan wrestled Ste down and struggled against his snaking hips to pull off his trousers and underwear. "Maybe I like knowing your mine." He grunted with satisfaction when he flipped Ste over onto his front. His arse was the perfect round, fleshy and firm. He gave it a little slap, watching it tremble under his hand and then sunk his teeth in, growling into a little bite. Ste gave a giggled complaint, before raising up onto knees and hands.

"Where'd you put the cream?" Brendan said, abandoning Ste's poise for a moment. He stripped whilst hunting for the tub.

Ste pointed and before he knew it, he was having cold and zesty moisturiser tingling along his crack. Brendan indulged himself, coating fingers tip to knuckle in cream and sliding them inside Ste with ease.

Ste moaned, feeling Brendan's digits work him hard. "I'm sure this isn't what it's for," he said. He groaned loud, shuddering with pleasure and stifled laughter. "It tingles."

Brendan began a slick groping of his balls, rubbing the cream over his dick. He pressed the tip of his cock against Ste's opening and then climbed over him, one arm stretched out to the headboard. Ste arched, flattening out his torso so he rested on his elbows and clawed at the covers. With his eyes staring straight into the lickable curves of Ste's shoulder blades, Brendan pushed inside, hearing his balls slap repeatedly against Ste's skin as they worked into their rhythm.

Brendan was animalistic and unrelenting in his pace, Ste could barely last. He felt Ste buckling under him, so held on through those final thrusts, beginning to cum, Ste's muscles retracting around him.

"No. C'mere," Ste murmured softly, sliding out from under him, damp and sweat slicked. He guided Brendan up until Ste took his cock into his mouth, claiming that last surge of orgasm. Ste smiled through his eyes. This had been how it was that very first night in Dublin. And then they'd drunk whiskey and Brendan had rimmed him. And every year since then.

X

"Why would anyone be knocking on the door right now?" Ste asked, pulling on some boxers underneath the hotel dressing gown.

Eileen was at the door, obvious signs of earlier tears. She carried boxed up desserts in her hands. "Peace offering," she said.

"Eileen! Hi…"

"I won't bother you. It's late."

Ste hoped the room smelt more of moisturiser than sex. He definitely smelt more of the latter. He invited her in, feeling rude not, ushering her into the lounge area of the suite. He could hear Brendan hastily through on clothes and cover up the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said, when he appeared. "I was outta line tonight,"

"Yeah you were,"

"I know you've been trying to turn things around and even the boys are saying 'You'll never recognise Da' and you know what, they're right," she paused, "I can't forget all the lies and the pain you put us through. And truth be told, it's still weird for me…"

Ste looked bashful. She wasn't the battle axe she made out to be.

"But…obviously something's working, 'cos you seem different. And the drugs and the violence – all that's gone," she looked at Ste, "Maybe we've got you to thank for that."

"I'd never put any of you through that again, I swear," Brendan said, "I ain't about to lose everything I worked for."

"I wouldn't let you," Eileen said abruptly. "This is it now. Me and Michael, you two – the kids come first. Chance after chance Brendan. This is it." She paused, as though building up to her final speech. "Starting with Christmas. You wanna prove yourself, then you can take the boys for Christmas. They deserve the chance to get to know the real you properly, not just once in a blue moon."

Brendan was at a loss for words and his thanks were heartfelt. He knew that her trust wasn't easily earned. Once she'd left, he sat quietly sipping his whiskey, watching as Ste battled to stay awake. He stroked his hair softly, thinking of Christmas and how lucky he was to be granted another chance at life once more.


End file.
